The Talk
by Bill Hagridsson
Summary: No, not that Talk. Rather, an alternate version of the one the Weasley brothers seem to delight in giving to any of Ginny's prospective suitors. Major Fluff Warning


**Disclaimer:** The attack lawyers require me to say that I have no ownership rights whatsoever to any of the characters created by the brilliantly talented and lovely JK Rowling. The plot ferrets, however, wish it known that they own the plot for this particular story. In a similar vein, the cats would like to invite the plot ferrets to dinner tomorrow night. Should be interesting.

**The Talk**

It had been six months since Harry Potter had destroyed the dark lord Voldemort. With the assistance of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Ginny Weasley, he had created a spell that allowed him to completely drain all magical powers from Voldemort. Another component of the spell had burned out the portion of Tom Riddle's brain that would allow him to manipulate magical powers in any way, shape, or form. He had, in fact been turned into a squib, with less magical potential than even Argus Filch. At Harry's request, he and his young friends had been obliviated by Albus Dumbledore, to prevent any knowledge whatsoever of that spell from being passed along. A spell of that kind, that powerful, was simply too dangerous, too much of a temptation. The Headmaster had been able to precisely control the memory modification, so that the spell itself was gone, while they retained the knowledge that they had been able to destroy Riddle, without having his death on their hands. One unforeseen consequence of the spell involved how it had reacted with the Dark Mark he had placed on all of his followers. With the fact that a characteristic of that mark was that he could use it to communicate with all of his Deatheaters when he needed to, the spell that had so transformed him had gone out through that link to all of them, having the same effect on all of them. As a result, they were remarkably easy to deal with when they were rounded up later. They had no way to resist magically, and almost none had any knowledge of muggle fighting techniques. The cleanup was done within a few days, and was relatively bloodless, save for a few aggrieved souls looking for payback. Surprisingly, there wasn't much of this, even, as most were very little challenge. It would be a long time indeed, before a new dark lord would even think about poking a head out of ground. Most simply weren't that stupid.

Once the clean-up had been finished, Harry and his friends had retired for the Burrow. None had any interest in all of the celebrations that would be occuring throughout the wizarding world. They preferred to attend the more private celebration that would be oraganized at the Weasley home. It wouldn't be any more quiet than any other parties, not with Fred and George in attendance. Nothing ever was when that pair was around. This night was no exception.

All of the Weasley family had gathered at the Burrow, along with friends of them all, to celebrate Harry's birthday. Ironically enough, for someone who's very existence had been toasted every October 31st for the past seventeen years, he was finally having his first birthday party, at the age of eighteen. Hallowe'en night, a few months after he'd turned one year old, he had managed to force Lord Voldemort from his body, ending a bloody reign of terror. That's why the night was celebrated the way it was in the wizarding world, in addition to the usual reasons.

This day, though, was July 31st, Harry's birthday. It was a much happier day for him, as he spent it with those he considered his family. These were people who wanted to spend time with him, just plain Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived. In the midst of the festivities in this happy place, the young wizard was concentrating mainly on one member of that special family.

Ginevra Molly Weasley.

Ginny.

After his two best friends, Ron and Hermione, had finally gotten together, he had felt a bit left out at times. He still spent time with them, worked on homework alongside Hermione, played Quidditch with Ron. The three of them had always had some outrageous adventures together, and would always be close. But, at the same time, he knew they, like any other couple, would need to have some time alone. If nothing else, so they could snog in private, and he wouldn't have to watch it. He was glad to see them happy, but didn't need to know the gory details.

A while after his best friends had become an item (winning Harry fifty Galleons in the Gryffindor Tower pool), Hermione had decided that a girlfriend was what Harry would need himself. She had tried fixing him up with every eligible girl who would stand still for more than thirty seconds. There were some good experiences that came out of all this, as well as some he'd rather forget.

Probably the most memorable and funniest (In hindsight at any rate) was near the end of sixth year. Harry had come back from a date with Susan Bones. They had been to the Three Broomsticks, then to the Kettle and Cauldron for dinner and dancing. It had been a nice evening, but the spark just wasn't there, for either of them. Afterwards, he had been sitting in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, reviewing texts to find spells for the next meeting of the DA. Hermione and Ron had come back from 'patrolling the corridors' (Harry had always put that phrase in quotes when they did their prefect duties together, as there were a lot of broom closets and empty classrooms to check overnight), and found him sitting there, calmly poring over the books. It had been obvious from the copious notes he'd taken, that he'd been at it a while. The bushy-haired girl had apparently found this a bit strange, as it was barely past curfew, which wasn't strictly enforced in his case.

The two of them had sat down on the couch next to the one he was sitting on. He already knew what was coming from Mione's exasperated sigh.

"Harry, how long have you been sitting here working on this?"

Leaning against the couch back, he pondered a moment. "Well, as it's just past ten oclock, about two hours, give or take."

She sat back, her arms crossed. She was going into analytical mode now. "So. What was it this time? Susan's a perfectly nice girl."

"Yes she is, and very pretty, as well."

She leaned forward eagerly. "So does this mean..."

"No, Mione. There just wasn't anything between us. We get along great. We had a lot of fun tonight, but there's somebody she likes better. She hated to admit it, actually." He chuckled now. "She wanted to know what I thought of Viktor Krum."

He and Ron laughed over that, but Hermione wasn't quite as amused.

"What is it with you? Why won't you date anybody?" All of a sudden, she looked as if she'd had a rather uncomfortable epiphane. "Umm, Harry, I want to ask you something, but I don't want you to take it wrong. Okay?"

"Sure. Fire away." He reached for his bottle of butterbeer and took a drink. This was fairly bad timing. In fact, it was just about the worst time to be half way through a swallow of anything, much less something with bubbles.

"Harry, you don't, erm, fancy, well, _blokes_ do you?"

This was the first time he had ever shot butterbeer through his nose, and knew right away that this was not an experience to repeat.

_"WHAT?"_

In no time, Ron was doubled up on the couch, laughing so hard he was crying. This wasn't due to the thought of his friend possibly being gay, rather it was the expression on Harry's face that did him in. The butterbeer flying from his friend's nose was just the icing on the cake, so to speak.

Hermione was speaking rather quickly now. "Harry, you know it wouldn't make any difference to us if you did. We'd still love you the same as we do now."

The thought that kept repeating in Harry's mind now was, _I am not having this conversation. I really am not._ He fixed her with a steady look and said, "Mione, I am not now, never have, and cannot ever imagine a situation where I would be attracted to any man."

"Well, the guys in our dorm will definitely be glad to hear that, mate." Ron collapsed again into hysterics, remembering the look on Harry's face.

Harry had started to be offended by the question, but saw the look on her face. The look he saw there plainly showed that she was just worried about him.

"Herm, I appreciate you being worried about me. I know that you two have something good together, and feel guilty about me being by myself more so than in the past. I'm fine with it, honestly. In fact, I prefer it this way at the moment. I have quite enough on my plate right now, without trying to deal with a relationship. There's only one woman I'm interested in." He saw the look that was coming across her face now, and held up a hand to stop her in her tracks. "No, I won't tell you who it is, as it's a moot point. I might've had a chance with her at one point, but I blew it."

"Will you tell me if I guess right?"

"No I won't. It doesn't matter anyway. She doesn't feel the same way about me." He gathered up his books, papers, and quills, putting them away. Before going up the stairs, he flashed her a grin. "Oh, and don't worry about it, Mione. I wasn't referring to you." Just he he passed through the door to his dorm, he heard her sigh of relief. He thought it was a good thing he'd mentioned that, as he settled in for the night.

Now, on the night of his eighteenth birthday, he couldn't help but shoot the occasional wistful glance at Ginny, as she moved around the room. Hermione had told him back in his fifth year that the only Weasley daughter had gotten over her crush on him. It had been obvious since then, as she'd had boyfriends, though not as many as some girls had.

In the meantime, they had become great friends. The summer after Sirius died, she had been the only one who could pull him out of his moods. He'd started to push everyone away, even his closest friends, and would let nobody in.

Finally, one night when he had been sulking under the Gryffindor stands next to the quidditch pitch, she had come to find him, and had all but ripped his head off. She had called him every name she could think of, made up a few new ones, and ended up with telling him he was the world's biggest, most insensitive prat that had ever walked the earth. She had even said he was worse than Percy. At the time, that would have been just a step below comparing him to Voldemort himself. She had stalked away then, leaving him feeling as small as it was possible to feel. A couple hours later, he had made his way slowly back up to the tower. Giving the Fat Lady the password, he stepped through into the common room. The only people present were Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. None would look at him at first. He walked over to where the group sat in front of the crackling flames. He stopped for a moment behind the couch they occupied. Nobody spoke for a few moments. He just stood there, staring into the flames.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being such a prat lately. It was inexcusable. You all deserve better." He then made his way up the stairs, and to bed. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, he was awoken for breakfast by Ron. "Better get down there, before it's all gone."

By the time they had reached the Great Hall, they were all talking again. Hesitantly at first, then more comfortably. By the end of the meal, even Ginny had started to include him in the conversation once more. From then on, the friendship they shared had gotten even stronger. Eventually, the Trio, as it was known around the school, wasn't a trio anymore. Ginny was now a part of the group, and it didn't feel right when she wasn't around.

Within a month, it was just accepted that the Gryffindor Four, as they were now known, would be found together when they weren't in classes. They'd all help each other with various subjects, looking up spells and practicing defense of all forms for the coming battles. Sometimes, they could just be found relaxing under the huge oak at the edge of the lake. When Ron and Hermione wanted time to themselves, Harry and Ginny were usually under his invisibility cloak, watching the Marauder's Map, planning out the odd prank or two along the way. The look on her face when she'd heard about these artifacts was something to behold.

The pretty young redhead was the first one Harry had opened up to about the prophecy, and she was still the only one who he had confided in about his time with the Dursley's. He didn't know until later that, when he had told her about how his relatives had treated him, she'd spent the next week dealing with nightmares about the things he'd described. Apparently, she had later sent an owl to Gred and Forge, detailing a few of the things he had told her, swearing them to complete secrecy. They had been nearly as incensed at the revelations she'd shared as she had, herself, and had decided it was time to test out some new products for their shop on the family at Privet Drive.

Harry still didn't know any of the particulars about this product testing, but the last time he had been at the Dursley's, Dudley had woken in the middle of the night, screaming, "No! Anything but hamsters!" That one memory was still enough to fuel a thousand patroni for Harry.

Harry had started to recognize the feelings he had for Ginny shortly after his seventh year had begun. He watched her, as she found the occasional boyfriend, feeling a bit guilty at his relief, as the relationships didn't quite work out. They were always there for each other, he to comfort her after the breakups, she to laugh and commiserate with him about Hermione's attempts to fix him up.

When he had told her about what the bushy-haired girl had asked him the night he'd gone out with Susan, Ginny had laughed even harder than her brother Ron had. She'd gotten to the point where Harry had to remind her to breathe. It had taken a while for her to recover, as she would start to calm down, mutter something about blokes, and she was off again.

For the next month, every time she saw Terry Boot, one of the more flamboyant and open gays around school, she'd threaten to fix Harry up with him. One morning at breakfast, she'd gone so far as to approach Terry, only to find she had no voice left. She'd turned back to the Gryffindor table to see Harry tucking his wand back into his robe, waggling a finger at her. After this, she finally let up on him, about that at least. Of course, she still joked about setting him up with girls like Pansy Parkinson or Millicent Bulstrode, knowing full well that there was no way he'd ever consent to a match like that, even if the two Slytherin girls had started to look as if they were thinking about overcoming their revulsion for anyone not from their own house, at least when it came to a certain messy-haired, emerald-eyed young wizard.

Once he'd started to realize just how hard he was falling for Ginny, he pushed those feelings ruthlessly down. First of all, she was over him, and he had lost any chance at that kind of relationship with her long ago. He didn't want to take the chance that he might lose the friendship he now had with her. It meant far too much to him to risk. There was also the fact that, if any of Voldemort's spies had gotten ahold of any rumors about Harry feeling anything more for her than what he did for his other two best friends, she would be at the top of the Dark Lord's list of people to go after. That would have truly been Harry's one vulnerable point. She may not have known it, but she was the center of his world. Without her, Harry would have no reason to go on. It was as simple as that.

The young wizard got up from the couch in front of the fire, casting yet another quick look at the vivacious young witch, and quietly slipped outside, to sit at a bench near the garden. Gazing up at the stars, lost in his thoughts of Ginny, he was unaware that his departure hadn't gone un-noticed.

Ron had seen his friend slip out the door, and quickly circulated the living room, giving a signal to his brothers to meet him outside. One by one, all six of the Weasley sons made their way quietly outside. Ron, knowing him the best, led the way to where Harry sat. All six circled around him, with the youngest son moving directly in front of his friend. He cleared his throat with a soft, "hem-hem".

Harry's eyes snapped open in shock, and he said, "Bloody hell, Ron! Would you stop doing that whole Umbridge thing, already? Merlin!" Through his irritation, he noticed that he was surrounded by redheads. "So what the hell's all this?"

Bill spoke up first, from Harry's right side. "Well, we've noticed the looks you've been giving our little sister."

Charlie was next. "You've been shooting little looks at her all night, mate."

Fred and George joined in now.

"Is there"

"Something you'd like"

"To tell us?"

They were getting all too good at this twin-speak. Of course, they'd done it all their lives, but they'd apparently been practicing.

Harry tried to laugh it off. "Hey, she's easier to look at than you lot." When this didn't get the laugh he'd thought it would, he got nervous. _"Oh, bugger. They've figured it out. I'm really in for it now."_

Percy, who had recently reconciled with his family, said, "Harry, I may not have the greatest perception in the world when it comes to emotional things, but I have to say that even _I've _noticed the looks you've given our baby sister."

Harry raised his hands, trying to deflect their suspicions. "Guys, Ginny and I are best friends. That's all. End of story."

Ron put his two knuts in now. "Harry, I know you the best out of any of the rest of us. I've watched you over the past couple of years. Mione and I _both_ have. What worries me is that I noticed this before _she_ did, and _I'm_ supposed to be the thick one." A few snickers greeted this, and he sent a death glare around the group before continuing. _"Anyway,_ I've been seeing the looks you give her for the past year. When are you planning on telling her how you feel?"

Harry glared back at his best male friend and said, "I'm not. Remember? Hermione told us Ginny's over me? It wouldn't do any good to say anything, and would wreck our friendship. I'm not going to take that chance. There's no way I'm going to do anything to risk what we do have."

He now felt a hand on each of his shoulders. It had to be Fred and George.

"There is no way"

"We're going to"

"Allow this to"

"Go on."

Great. Now he was getting it in stereo. Just what he needed. "So what are you lot going to do about this anyway? I thought all of you wanted to keep her single for the rest of her life or something."

Bill replied to this. "No way, Harry. What we want is for our sister to be happy. She may have given up on her crush on you, but we can tell, she loves you, mate."

Ron spoke up again. "Didn't you ever wonder why no other bloke stands a chance with her? Open your eyes, you daft git."

Charlie sniggered at this. "Bit like the pot calling the kettle black isn't it?" At the glare he received from his youngest brother, he relented a bit. "Alright, alright. At least you finally _did_ figure it out." He turned his attention back to Harry, now. "There's nothing for it, Harry. You're going to tell her. Tonight."

The young man at the center of the group stubbornly crossed his arms and said, "No. I'm not. Nothing you can do will make me."

Even in the dim light the half-moon cast down, he could see the eyebrows rise on all the faces he saw.

Bill said to the rest, "Right then. You know what to do, boys."

In a flash, they all had their wands out and pointed at him. Ron cast the first spell, _"Petrificus totalus."_ Harry was instantly frozen in place. Bill was next. _"Mobilo corpus."_ He was then floating in the air above the bench. Each took a handhold on part of his clothes, pulling him slowly but inexorably back toward the house. Harry turned the air blue around him, as he spouted every profane, obscene, or otherwise offensive word or phrase he could think of, muggle or wizard. He finished up by the time they'd reached the door. All six brothers were suitably impressed, and the Twins were taking notes by the end. They'd quite liked the bits concerning a camel's bum. Very inventive, that was. By the time they hauled him through the door, they had the attention of everybody still in the Burrow.

Hermione and Ginny were sitting on the couch, talking, when they spied the odd procession entering. The older girl smothered a laugh as she got up, leaving the rest of the couch for her friend. Ginny wondered what was going on, as Harry had a very resigned look on his face as they floated him over to land on the couch, his head in her lap. She looked up at her brothers, amusement plain on her face.

"Something going on here, guys?"

Ron replied with, "Harry has something to tell you. Go on, mate. The sooner you tell her, the sooner you can move."

If looks could kill, the one he shot at Ron would have done the job as efficiently as a basilisk's glare. When he looked up at Ginny, however, the look in his eyes softened, as he took in the worried, yet amused look she gave him. His green eyes looking into her chocolate brown ones, he could finally take it no more.

"Gin, I...I...l-l-love you. I have for a long time now. It's alright that you don't feel the same way. I know I blew it, a long time ago." He closed his eyes now, relieved to finally get that off his chest, whatever happened next.

As he said this, Ginny's eyes flew open, going as wide as saucers. This was the last thing she'd ever expected to hear from him. After a moment, she seemed to come out of shock, as a grin lit up her face. His eyes were still closed, so he didn't see this.

Harry fully expected her to tell him off for this, and let him know that she had absolutely no feelings for him except friendship. For this reason, he was completely shocked, as the next thing he knew, he felt a soft pair of lips on his, kissing the life out of him. His eyes shot open, and he was amazed to see the curtain of red hair falling over his face. He closed his eyes again, and kissed her back. A few minutes later, they broke apart.

Ginny said, "Alright. Now, will one of you idiots release my boyfriend, so we can get some quality snogging time in? This is fun and all, but I'd like him to be able to join in, if you don't mind."

The next he knew, Harry was able to move again. He looked around the room at the Weasley brothers, smug looks on their faces. He sat up next to Ginny and put his arms around her, properly kissing her this time. They broke off again, amid catcalls from all sides, blushes coming up on both faces as they realized that they had quite a large audience, including the parents of the woman whose daughter he was now having some definitely lascivious thoughts about. He looked to Molly and Arthur, seeing the happy looks on both faces. Arthur was chuckling, and Molly was positively beaming. The twinkle in her eyes could have given Dumbledore's a run for the money right about now.

Again, he looked around at the brothers of the woman he had his arm around. Finally, he spoke again. "You know, I have to say that I am extremely happy that things have turned out the way they have. But," He looked around again, giving them a glare that reminded them that he was not somebody to be trifled with casually. "I _will_ get you back." Now his eyes sparkled like you'd imagine the headmaster's would after a handful of amphetamines. "Remember one thing, boys. I _am_ the only descendant of the Marauders, and I have all their notes, as well as the genes to go with them." On the other side of the room, Remus Lupin laughed til he cried, at seeing the looks on the faces of Gred and Forge. They were the only ones present, other than Harry and Remus, who seemed to grasp the implications of this statement. That said, he turned his attention back to Ginny.

The two of them spent the rest of the night getting to know each other in ways never imagined in a PG rated story, which, for obvious reasons, will not be detailed here.

A few months later, after the couple announced their engagement, the brothers thought they were safe from retribution, as Harry had seemed to forget any notions of revenge.

That lasted until they all developed a disturbing tendency to break out into show-tunes at extremely inappropriate times.

That, alas, is a story for another time.

_finis_


End file.
